


Responsiveness Metrics

by Rubynye



Category: Original Work
Genre: Clothed Sex, Double Penetration, Double Penetration in One Hole, Double Penetration in Two Holes, Double Vaginal Penetration, Dubious Consent, F/M, Forced Breeding as Punishment for Crime, Mad Science, Mad Scientists, Manual stimulation, Medical Procedures, Multi, Past Sexual Assault, Sex Slavery as Legal Punishment for a Crime, Size Difference, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism, forced bestiality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-23 19:19:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19157320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubynye/pseuds/Rubynye
Summary: “D’you wanna see what they’rereallyworking on here?” he whispers in her ear.





	Responsiveness Metrics

**Author's Note:**

  * For [soseta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/soseta/gifts).



> Soseta, you always have such great ideas, and I really hope you enjoy this!

“But we’re not supposed—“ Tricia pulls back against Brian’s hand around her wrist, Brian’s lean forward towards the branch in the corridor, Brian’s sneaky suggestion they ditch the official tour. Her heart pounds in her chest with a strange blend of fear and excitement, naughtiness and dread, the feeling labeled “Brian.”

Who looks back at her, deep-brown bangs curved around his forehead, lashes temptingly long as his hazel eyes glint through them, and then leans in towards her. “D’you wanna see what they’re _really_ working on here?” he whispers in her ear. “Don’t you wanna know what the Institute for Pan-Species Interactivities really does?”

Tricia shudders under every word, under the silky brush of Brian’s lips and the curl of his hot breath against her ear. “How do you know what they do?”

“Brendan told me,” Brian says, citing his idolized older brother as he slides his hand up Tricia’s arm, wrist and pulse, tendon and elbow. “Said it was the best internship ever. C’mon, come with me Trish, lemme show you.”

She shouldn’t, she knows. She takes a deep breath, and does, leaning into Brian’s mouth on her ear, his hand curved just below her shoulder, his lead as he presses his grin to her temple and tugs her around the corner. He slides his fingers down her arm, her skin tingling in their wake as they wrap around her wrist, and leads her through a right-angled maze of tiled, white-walled corridors, blank instead of labeled like the ones on the tour, down to a wall of doors labeled “Art.Org.1.1” through 8.2 

Glancing at the schedules fastened to each door, Brian eventually stops by 8.2 and lets go of her, and as if a spell’s broken Tricia glances around nervously as he fiddles with the door, but there’s no one around, no evident cameras, hopefully no hidden surveillance. Soon enough his electric touch returns, soon enough he leads her into the dark room and shuts the door quietly behind them. 

A window fills one whole wall, showing the lab on the other side. It’s empty but for its furnishings, an adjustable table with restraints, monitors and shelves, and a computer terminal in the far corner. Brian leads her to a bench, and Tricia’s about to sit when the lab’s door opens and she jumps.

“Shh,” Brian whispers in her ear, throwing his arm tight around her shoulders as a huge — person? Monster? Strapped to an upright gurney is wheeled through the door. “It’s a one-way mirror, they can’t see us.” The creature on the gurney looks unconscious, small deep-set eyes closed, and it’s like a person pumped up like a tire, sandy grey all over, small bald head and bulging torso and limbs and — two penises, dangling thick and long between its massive thighs? Tricia gasps and Brian’s hand slides over her cheek and her mouth, flat and warm over her lips as he repeats, “shhh. They might still hear, I dunno, shh.”

The monster is being wheeled by two white-coated scientists, a woman with a purple bun and a nonbinary person with trimmed auburn hair and round glasses, chatting to each other as they push their monster into the room and settle it against the leftwards wall, attaching its gurney to wall-mounted clamps. They leave the room, still cheerfully chatting, no sound escaping through the mirror, and Tricia relaxes a little, onto the bench, into Brian’s arm around her. She mouths his finger, curling her hand around his wrist, and he chuckles into her ear.

Then the door opens again and two orderlies appear in their blue scrubs, backs first, dragging on someone else. A woman, naked, her skin high pink and her disheveled hair two-toned, blonde over brown, her head thrashing in vigorous reluctance, a convict’s brand on her left shoulder. Tricia catches her breath and Brian presses his hands in tighter, over her mouth, over her far wrist. The orderlies haul the struggling woman to the table, push her down and lock restraints around her wrists, then one ankle, then the other. One turns a crank, raising the table, and the other operates a lever, pushing the woman bodily down the table, her knees rising as her legs bend until her rear reaches the table’s end, as if for a pelvic exam. The woman thrashes and screams the whole time, obviously unenthusiastic about the experiment she’s been assigned to, and Tricia quivers, watching the woman’s round breasts bounce as she struggles, feeling her pussy heat, feeling guilty, feeling intrigued.

Brian sucks in a breath beside her, and pulls her hand over into his lap, over his hardening cock.

The orderlies depart as the scientists appear in a window on the other side of the lab, the enby with a clipboard and the woman holding a small recording machine up to her mouth. She speaks some short sentences and glances at the enby, who nods and reaches up to press a button.

The monster jerks awake in its bonds, arches its back, and lets out a roar so loud Tricia feels the walls and floor vibrate, through her shoes, through her bottom on the bench. The convict woman screams again, jerking at her bonds, and Tricia notices how far apart her knees hang, flash-remembers how far apart hers felt when Dr. Nichels administered her first pelvic exam, commented on how pretty her labia were, slicked up his gloved hand and stroked Tricia inside and over her clit until she sobbed up into coming, and commented on her excellent responsiveness. The convict twists and Tricia sees her pussy, shaved pinkly bare, and feels all the soft little hairs on her own as they get wetter and wetter inside her panties.

The monster focuses its beady eyes on the convict, opening its wide lipless mouth, leaning forward in its bonds. The two scientists smile in eager fascination, the woman chattering into the recorder as the enby presses more buttons and the monster’s restraints disengage.

It takes a step forward and its massive cocks sway. The convict on the table jerks frantically at her bonds, her full lips peeled back from her teeth, and the monster reaches out to touch her with both three-fingered hands: upraised knees, belly and hips, jiggling breasts, arched throat and splayed-out hair, all with the same light curiosity. As Brian’s fingers curve warmly over her cheek, Tricia wonders how intelligent the creature is.

The monster leans in and the convict rolls her head away, eyes and teeth clenched, as it trails its flat wide-nostrilled nose from her hair down her neck, between her breasts, over her belly, between her legs. It grips her knees, pushing them further apart so it can fit its face up against her pussy, seemingly breathing deeply, and what looked like knobs on its side unfold into another pair of arms, another set of hands. Tricia squeaks in shock, and Brian puffs against her ear, then whispers “Fore-armed for fore-play huh?”

She giggles helplessly, her gaze riveted to the scene before her, the monster examining the trapped convict woman as the scientists bounce with excitement on its far side. Its cocks are rising as it snuffles the convict’s thighs, one and the other, and Brian’s is rising with them, a firm curve under his fly. He runs his teeth along Tricia’s ear until she shudders, then sits back a little to unzip his fly and push her hand into his pants, down the length of his cock, hot and hard under her fingers and palm.

Tricia shivers between heat and heat, curling her fingers loosely around Brian’s cock, too distracted by the monster’s long purple tongue unfurling from its mouth to swipe up over the comvict’s pussy, her full-body lurch in response, mouth working as she shouts, still obviously objecting as the monster licks down and further down, between her asscheeks, as its cocks twitch and heave ever more upright. They don’t have foreskins, unlike Brian's, sliding back under Tricia’s palm as she absently strokes; the creature’s lower cock drips a long strand of clear fluid, and Tricia thinks _Pre-ejaculate_ , feeling Brian’s cockhead damp with the same substance. 

Brian leans in to her, gripping her shoulder, pushing his other hand up her skirt. Tricia’s heart thumps, and she’s not sure, but she doesn’t say anything, she lets Brian push his hand between her thighs and hook it into her panties and pull them forward and down. She gasps airlessly and braces as he pushes rough, exploring fingers over her pussy, between her labia, as he licks the edge of her ear and presses his thumb over her clit like a button, sending a hot zap of sensation through her.

Tricia gasps loudly, and shoves her own hand over her mouth, and Brian chuckles, pressing his downy cheek to hers. The monster is standing up. Its cocks are standing straight up. The convict on the table is thrashing her head, jerking her rear side to side, the ‘no’s obvious on her churning mouth.

Tricia shivers under Brian stroking her clit and wonders what the woman was convicted of, what she did to deserve this. The monster’s huge grey cocks rear up almost to its ribcage, baring a small pouch of a scrotum, as it grips her knees with its lower hands and her sides under her armpits with its upper hands, pushing its hips forwards, clearly intending to enter her.

The enby scientist bites their knuckles as the woman grips their shoulder, as the monster pushes its cocks against the convict’s pussy and her rear at the same time, as she shudders in its grip but can’t move. The monster pushes, steadily, heavily, and Brian pushes hot hard fingers inside Tricia, and she can’t breathe between the feel and the sight, as the convict’s defenseless pink holes unfurl open, the grey cocks sinking in, as the convict arches and beats her head against the table, her fists flailing open and closed above the wrist restraints.

The monster sinks in with surprising patience, unlike Brian’s demanding fingers, his hot breath on the side of Tricia’s face as he plunges in to the knuckles and pulls out, over and over, fucking her with them. “Gonna come for me, Trish?” he whispers into her cheek. “Think she’s gonna come on those big cocks?”

“I,” Tricia breathes, and can’t get any further. “I, iiiiii…” as Brian’s hand tucks under her arm, his hand around her cloth-covered breast, his fingers finding her nipple, plucking it up until it sparks. “Ah, ah…” as the monster bottoms out inside the convict, a shallow bump rising in her belly, as it pulls out wet glistening cocks from both holes, the lower one streaky, and pushes in faster this time, the convict’s back bending into a tormented arch as she screams, chest heaving hard enough to bounce her breasts into a hypnotic jiggle.

The monster notices too. It drags its hips back and slams them in, the ripple going through the convict’s entire body up to her rolling eyes, and reaches an upper hand to grip her breast, leaning in to push its mouth down over it, around it, all the way to her chest. Its cheeks hollow as it sucks, its hips slam faster and harder, the bulge in the convict’s belly reddening each time it rises; Tricia’s head is spinning and her pussy burns around Brian’s fingers and her clit throbs under his thumb like her heartbeat and she tips her head back, arching her own back into her orgasm. Just in time Brian presses his hand over hers on her mouth, his mouth open and panting against her cheek as they watch the monster fuck the convict woman and the delighted scientists observing just beyond.

The monster’s pounding so fast now its hips are a blur of grey skin and flashes of the convict’s reddened holes, and when it switches breasts the first one flops back and forth with its thrusts, purpled and shiny, nipple dark and engorged. The monster pulls its mouth off her breast as it arches back, its mouth gaping in what must be a climactic bellow as it slams in once more and holds her hips tightly to its own, obviously coming. The convict rolls her head against the table, fluids streaming down from her eyes down her temples and from her nose down her cheek, her body jerking all over as the monster rolls its hips against hers, as translucent white come leaks out around its cocks sunk into her blood-bruised flesh and drips onto the floor between the monster’s feet.

Tricia came with her eyes open, somehow, crackling waves of heat surging through her, the monster’s climax before her eyes as her own rolled through her body. Brian groans, thrusting his hips up into her hold, but he doesn’t pull his fingers out of her, and the monster doesn’t back away from the crying woman. It pulls back, slick and wet inside the glowing red rims of her battered holes, until only its cockheads are inside, and as it firms its grips on her knees it reaches up to grip her breasts like handles as it begins thrusting again, starting fast this time, her purple-bruised breasts bulging between its thick grey fingers. The convict woman arches and screams, the top of her head pressed to the table, and keeps screaming as the monster fucks her so hard little drops splash out, flying sideways, all around.

Tricia’s mouth is dry, Brian’s fingers hard and heavy inside her. She wonders how the monster’s massive cocks would feel in her when Brian’s fingers already feel so big. She whimpers as Brian pinches her nipple and rhythmically squeezes her breast till it aches all over inside her bra cup, as she watches the convicts’s belly bruise through red to purple from within, from the monster’s massive penetration. Brian curls his hand over her throat and she swallows, pressing her skin against his hand, and clamps her eyes shut, writhing in place around his fingers as heat boils over inside her again.

“Oh damn, Trish,” Brian murmurs into her ear, “you feel so fucking awesome, oh fuck, look, look!” Tricia pries her eyes open, looking up dizzily, and sees the monster has pulled out this time, coming in sticky white splashes on the convict’s belly and her splayed-open pussy, her whole body shuddering as she gasps, still sobbing. “Damn, isn’t that a sight?”

All out of breath, her ribcage aching, Trish can only nod. Brian kisses under her jaw, running his teeth down the side of her neck, turns her face with his hand and kisses her hard as she whimpers into his mouth. He pulls back, grinning at her, and she blinks dazedly at him. “You’re the best,” he whispers, and looks forward again. “Oh, holy shit.”

The enby scientist, finger on another button, is speaking into what must be an intercom. The monster widens its stance and wraps a lower hand around both its still-hard cocks, gripping the convict’s waist with its upper hands. She’s obviously, desperately shouting, but neither the monster nor the scientists pay her any attention, except for the monster to push her labia even further open with its other lower hand and — Tricia gasps in disbelief. The monster is pushing both its hard grey cocks into the convict’s enpurpled pussy.

The convict clearly doesn’t welcome it, fists clenching, knees pressing in, but the monster elbows her thigh outwards and keeps pushing. From where they sit Tricia can see everything, every bruised fold of the convict’s pussy, the taut strain as the monster sinks both its cocks in together. “Like that, huh?” Brian whispers, wiggling his fingers inside her, stroking her clit side to side. “I bet if I got on the floor and put my mouth on you you’d scream so they could all hear you, so the tour group could hear you. God, you’re so hot. I’m so glad I’m watching this with you.”

“Thanks,” Trish stammers out, meaning to say more, if she could even think of it. Brian chuckles, kissing her temple, and presses his cheek to hers as they watch the convict’s pussy impossibly flare open around both the monster’s cocks, her reddened clit taut and upthrust. Her bulging belly rises like she’ll burst open, and she’s screaming continuously, mouth distended like a mirror of her straining pussy as the massive cocks sink into her, in and in and in until the monster pushes flush against her, its balls flopping down against her bottom.

It seems to sigh in satisfaction, until the scientist calls another command through the intercom. Then it takes a deep breath, and pulls back almost as tortuously, the convict’s taut flesh clinging to the cocks, until it’s far enough out —

It slams in and the convict’s eyes roll back in her head, nothing showing but the whites, and Tricia feels a scream echoing in the back of her own throat, Brian’s hand pressed over her tingling mouth. She aches sympathetically, unable to avoid imagining how intense such a massive penetration would be, how it would feel pushing all her insides apart, battering new open space into her. The monster fucks the convict so hard her whole body shakes, jerking in her restraints, her breasts bouncing, and Tricia can’t keep from feeling a ghost of that invasion, around Brian’s fingers still sunk into her and deeper still.

“C’mon, c’mon, yeah,” Brian mutters, sliding those fingers back and forth again. “I wanna feel you come again, Trish, I can’t get enough.” The convict seems to have gone limp, eyes rolled so far back only the whites are visible, neck flopping sideways as her body bounces on the monster’s cocks, as it throws its head back again, fucking and fucking. Tricia doesn’t feel up for another, her legs already shaking, and she pulls her hand off Brian’s cock to press his wrist, but he just fingers her slowly, panting against her cheek, concentration on watching the monster pound the convict’s overstretched pussy until it comes again, with another wall-shaking bellow and long streams of white semen sliding to the floor.

There’s a long still moment, while the monster’s barrel chest heaves and the scientists make rapid notes and Brian shudders beside Tricia, time enough for her to notice the streaks of red in the white puddle between the monster’s feet. It pulls back, out and out and out, and the convict sinks prone, dangling from the wrist cuffs, her rear slid off the table, her pussy gaping and drooling more thick white strands. 

The scientists disappear from their viewing window and reappear opening the door, the enby scientist unwrapping a dark rectangle that looks to be a snack bar while they speak to the monster with slowly enunciated words and a broad smile. They reach up, pacing slowly towards the monster, and put the snack bar into its mouth, and as the monster chews it backs up onto its gurney against the wall. The scientists fasten its restraints, both of them speaking to it with those big smiles and exaggerated words like they would to a pet that’s done good tricks, and then unlock the gurney from the wall and wheel it out. 

The orderlies enter right after the scientists leave, pushing a flat gurney. The taller one unfastens the unconscious convict’s wrists as the broader one unfastens her ankles one-handed, supporting her waist with the other arm. They lift her at shoulders, waist, and knees, and roll her onto her front on the gurney, lock more restraints around her wrists and ankles, then unfold a blanket and drape it over her, which makes Tricia feel strangely better somehow. They quickly wipe up the table and the floor, the taller one unfolds a sign that says “PLEASE SANITIZE” and sets it on the table, and they wheel the convict out, turning off the main lights as they go.

Brian shudders again, pulling his fingers out of Tricia, shoving them into his mouth and moaning around them. “Oh-em-gee,” he mumbles as he pulls them out to cup her cheeks between his hands, one damp, both hot. “Trish, did you see that? Please, c’mere,” and he kisses her searingly before she can answer, “c’mere,” as he wraps one arm around her waist and pulls her off the bench, turning her as they sink to their knees. She shifts around awkwardly beneath his hands, being draped over the bench as he kisses her ear and cheek and her mouth again; he shifts behind her, pushing his knees between hers, pushing her skirt up and her panties further down past her knees. “I’ve got a condom,” he assures her, as she gasps and waits, belly pressed to the bench, gripping its far edge with both hands. She hears a small snarl of plastic ripping, a slick sound as he moans and shifts forward, and then—

“Trish,” Brian groans against the back of her neck, deeper and vibrating, as he pushes his cock into her. It slides in smoothly, pushing her open more evenly than his knobby fingers, wider, hotter. She keens as the heavy heat expands within her, and he presses his hand against her lips again, two fingers into her mouth, and she obediently closes her lips around them, tasting traces of her own musk, feeling his strong fingers curl on her tongue as he pulls back and pushes into her again, and again, speeding up on each thrust.

“Trish, oh god, Trish,” Brian murmurs between kisses all over the back of her neck, between his racing thrusts as he fucks her hard, her whole body shaking with each impact. Behind her eyes Trish watches the convict woman shaking around the monster’s battering cocks, and the heat spilling down her skin merges with the fire chafed up inside her; moaning into Brian’s hand, she clenches around him as she comes again, pulse after pulse as he presses his bared teeth to her nape and shudders into her, coming with her, inside her.

For a moment he rests heavily on her, pressing the air out of her until she sees red rushing spots, before he hauls in a deep breath and pushes up, pulls out of her, and shuffles back. “Hot damn,” he sighs, a smile in his voice, and as Tricia lets herself slump over the bench she curls around to look at him, a silhouette in the dimness as he pulls the condom off and tucks himself away one-handed, pushing the condom into his side pocket with the other.

That wad in his hand looked bigger than just a condom. “My panties?” Tricia asks, but Brian just chuckles, so she pushes herself up and insists, “My panties! Where are they?”

“I need something to wrap the condom in,” he says as he gets to his feet, and she can _hear_ his smirk. She huffs but he reaches down for her hand and like always she gives it to him, letting him pull her up. “God, that was hot. What was that, our seventh time?” Tricia nods, straightening her skirt, and Brian pats down her blouse back and front, actually helping more than groping her. “It just keeps getting better and better,” he winds up, and kisses her cheek. “Trish, you’re amazing.”

Brian wraps his arm around her waist and Tricia giggles under the compliment, even though or maybe because she can feel her bottom bare under her skirt, the warm ache he left inside her, his hand splayed over her ribs. “You’re sweet,” she murmurs back, and Brian huffs and snorts a laugh and opens the door.

A thought makes Trish look back at the lab. “I didn’t know they used convict conscripts here,” she murmurs. The brochure and tour showed only volunteer subjects. “What could she have done to deserve that?”

“Deserve such a fun ride?” Brian asks sardonically, but Tricia shakes her head.

“That looked worse than jail,” she declares. “I’m never breaking the law.” 

“Never ever?” Brian asks slyly. “Not even if I get some of that wine you know you like?” She shakes her head, and of course he keeps going. “Or even some weed? Not even if I asked you to?”

Tricia blinks and looks up at him, into his sparkling hazel eyes, unsure how to answer. No? Maybe? Possibly, yes?

_PostScript_

“OneOneFive performed well this afternoon,” Dr. Melonzei notes as ve sits down across the desk from Dr. Whittaker. “The subjects’ respiration rates were ten and twelve percent higher than the last pair’s, and their heartbeats peaked at 135 bpm both. That said, they seem to be in greater synch than the last pair.”

“Yes, they definitely appeared more bonded,” she agrees. "When Janice gives us their names we should remember to ask for data on their relationship.”

Dr. Melonzei makes a note on the already data-crammed clipboard page, then chews thoughtfully on vis pen-end for a moment. “Do you think Convict Jenkins will be ready by the evening tour?”

Dr Whittaker puffs a doubtful breath. “Last I checked she hadn’t regained consciousness. Maybe we should put Convict Naven in, see how OneOneFive reacts to him.”

“Sounds good,” Dr. Melonzei agrees, and reaches for vis tablet to start transcribing the day’s plentiful observations of both human and construct sexuality.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt, "Mad Scientists make Monster noncon Female Criminal Sentenced to be a Test Subject".


End file.
